Being on vacation and taking a trip are two very different things.  It wasn’t until I met my boyfriend a few years ago that I actually learn what ‘being on vacation’ meant. I had done some traveling in my life to far off destinations meant for exploration and discovery, but I had never packed a bag, boarded a plane, and found myself somewhere unrecognizable for the sole purpose of not doing something. As I come to nearing the end of my trip, I find that there is that part of me settling in and wanting that thing that vacations give you…

…permission.

Flying half way around the world is actually not completely necessary.  The beautiful beaches, the swaying palms, the golden sunset in the distance (to throw in a few tried-and-true clichés) are not so unique as we make them sound. It is more that we notice them.  How often do you walk outside your door looking for something beautiful? or bring something beautiful into your home?

Yet on vacation that is exactly what we do, and what we expect.

Don’t get me wrong, I am (at the depth of my very soul) a traveler, but I see so many people along the way scrambling desperately for that elusive moment. That moment where they stay at one hotel long enough to unpack, they’ve done everything you’re ‘supposed’ to do when visiting that particular location, they have enough funny or interesting stories to bring home, all the souvenirs are purchased, and now…well, now what?

It is that magical reason people go on vacation…they have the universally accepted permission…

Permission to stop.

We all want it. Secretly, in the back of their minds, even the over-achieving, 100-miles-an-hour, couldn’t hold still for 5-minutes people want it.  Why do you think we work so hard, to make more money, to pay our bills, and ‘someday’ go on that vacation…It’s not a bad thing, it just isn’t completely necessary…There is beauty everywhere, in everything.  Life is a choice.  It’s your choice, and ‘permission’ lies with-in.

“The Mind is it’s own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.” –John Milton (Paradise lost)

I will probably ruin any future chance I ever might have had of being a travel writer by saying this, but one of my favorite places in the world is often sitting alone in traffic.  I am not generally plagued with the most common ailment found in the 21^st century… ‘Road-Rage’ (well most of the time *grin*). I think it’s primarily because, (well I do try to avoid high traffic times when I’m late or cranky, like anyone else), but more so, I accept traffic as being out of my control. Once I am able to realize that there is nothing I can do about the situation at this moment, then all the tension that might accompany it fades away. I don’t perseverate on what else I could or should be doing. It’s all perspective. It’s like I boarded a plane to somewhere and there is nothing I could possibly do about the laundry, or the deadline, or any other situation weighing on my mind.

Alone in my car in traffic becomes the perfect weather, and I don’t have to explain why I like the heater on even when I have the windows cracked. Alone in my car in traffic becomes my guilty pleasure and I don’t have to explain that I like teen-pop country tunes at ridiculous volumes. Alone in my car in traffic is when my mind can wonder and I can think about anything from a ridiculously implausible idea I’ve always dreamt of doing or a clip from my favorite super sappy romantic comedy. Alone in my car in traffic is permission…permission to create an environment that allows me to be my idiosyncratic authentic self without explanation or apologies. It gives me permission to stop. Stop planning, stop working, stop acting like I have it all under control, just stop and be.  (Mind you, alone in my car in traffic has nothing on Bali!) But as I settle into returning to my ‘real life’ it is important to remember that it is all my real life.

Right here at 5:30 in the morning, sitting on an endless couch, waiting for the sun to whisper sweet nothings to the passing night and take the stage for another day is just as real as 5:30 am in my scrubs headed work and to another opportunity to make connections and live with intentionality. It’s not as easy to be present and peaceful when a patient is screaming profanity at you rather than a local smiling and asking if you’d like another beverage, but it isn’t impossible (I think… *grin*).

Living a life intentionally and in gratitude changes the perspective. In my case, a completely rational thought of “Hell no! I’m not going to “fetch” you some ice” with beads of water still dripping into my eyes and onto my cheeks off of the strands of my hair that absorbed the majority of his cup of, obviously not cold enough, water… Turns into a memory of my scooter drivers huge grin as he blissfully told me that he was so very lucky, grateful, and immensely happy to have the great good fortune to have so many jobs (four) and provide food for his family when others have “bad economy” and cannot…(I mean it’s just water, right!?!)

It is not always (or ever) easy to start, but I think it just may be the secret to lasting happiness…or at least a little bit of Bali…all year round.